Span of a Heartbeat
by erf10722
Summary: In a heartbeat, everything can change. My world can be flipped upside down. But maybe it's worth it if the rest of the world is flipped right side up.
1. Chapter 1

**This was a request from one of my favorite reviewer DreadfulStar! She likes death and destruction, so be mindful of upcoming tragedies. She guessed the plot correctly for "Aid to the Helpless." Remember, you don't have to actually guess some plot component for me to write a story for you! Just PM me! "Span of a Heartbeat" and "Somewhere only We Know" are both suggestions!**

**I don't own the Outsiders.**

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><p>"I am as old as I have ever been." Johnny and I were sitting in the lot, legs crossed, cigarettes ablaze, and this mantrum kept running through my head.<p>

Well, actually, only Johnny had a cigarette lit. Darry figured out a useful and annoying as hell parenting technique: using cigarettes as rewards.

I don't have any money, and Darry forbade the gang to give me cancer sticks anymore. So, whenever I do something wrong or I have a track meet coming up, or Darry just needs an outlet for his anger (it seems like that's happening alot lately) He'll put me on "Smokes probation."

So anyway, I was thinkin' about how two years ago, My parents died, then six months later, Johnny and I were almost killed by a Socs. We would both be dead now if Soda and Darry hadn't followed me after I ran out that night.

I was grateful for my life, and at the same time, a little resentful that my brothers didn't trust me. But more grateful.

But it really dawned on me that every second I was getting a little older, a little wiser, hopefully a little taller.

"Whatcha thinkin about Pony?" Johnny asked softly, flicking his ashes at a colony of ants that had made a home in the dried Tulsa grass.

"Cigarettes." I answered immediately. Johnny and I didn't really tell eachother everything anymore. When we did talk, it was about girls, booze, and drag races.

Afterall, I was sixteen and Johnny was eighteen. We needed to act our age. I wasn't really allowed to watch sunsets anymore, because the gang made fun of me too much.

Also, it's kinnda gay to tell a guy everything. People in Tulsa are really conscious about that sort of thing, and Soda and Steve were jumped a while back for always hangin' out together. Actually, a long while back, almost a year.

They don't hand out exclusively together anymore, and Steve doesn't really think of me as a tag-along kid anymore.

I guess this is just growing up, but I don't like it. I wish I was still fourteen, that Soda was still the person I loved most in the world, and that Two-Bit was still always jokin' around.

When Dally left us, everything changed. He sort of just left for New York with out any warning and only a note that literally said "I'm going to New York. See ya greasers, Dally." He left the note at Bucks, and it took us two weeks to find any evidence of it, because Buck couldn't read it, so figured it wasn't important. Dally isn't all that great of a speller.

On the plus side, I got my first book published. Well, sort of. I went under a pen name. Darry didn't want any press or anything, so we got the money from it, but no credit. I guess that's ok. Since we got the money, we are more middle class.

Actually, speakin of money, Steve is sort of a prodigy turns out. He's good at playing the stocks, which he found out when he somehow "accidently" won over a million dollars, then gambled it all away thinking that he could increase it. Greedy pig.

So, we're all pretty much just living the good life.

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><p>When Johnny and I arrived home from the lot, a rare scene met our eyes. The entire gang (save Dallas) was watching (and thoroughly making fun of) and old episode of little house on the prairie.<p>

I think the gang has more fun watching bad movies than good ones sometimes. Johnny and I sat on the floor like we used to when we were little, and for a second I felt completely relaxed.

Then, quite suddenly, pain exploded throughout my body.

It felt as though I were a tube of toothpaste, being squeezed by an invisible hand so that all of the blood left my heart, leaving it dried and burning and went to my head, where it couldn't escape my thick skull, but I knew that at any second my head would explode and my heart would come out through my ears.

I think I screamed. I didn't feel the hands pinning me down, but I knew they were there because when it stopped, quite as suddenly as it started, Darry, Soda and Steve were pinning me down.

"Pony, What the hell happened?" Darry roared, but he didn't sound angry, more confused and scared. I didn't even know Darry could sound that way.

"I-I don't know." I stuttered. I didn't feel any pain now, save a beer bottle poking painfully into my back.

"Are you ok, man?" Soda asked. He had let go of me, and gestured for the others to do the same.

"I-uh-" I felt tears brim in my eyes. _Don't cry, don't cry _I repeated to myself. I think Steve saw the tears that threatened to spill, but he didn't laugh like he would have a few years ago.

I guess since I cry less often now, people think it's a bigger deal. "I-um-" I tried again.

"Were you in pain? Where did it hurt?"

"Yeah, no, it's fine. Um, I- goodnight." I sort of scurried out of the living room and collapsed on my bed.

I found myself asking the same question that Darry had. "What the hell just happened?" I said aloud to the darkness. It didn't answer.

There was a knock on my door, and Soda entered without waiting for an answer. "Just making sure you're ok. You want to go to bed early?" I saw a glimpse of my used-to-be compassionate brother.

"Yeah, I'm going to. Goodnight."

"Night."

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><p><strong><em><span>Soda POV <span>_**

I woke in the middle of the night with a jolt. Screaming was coming from Pony boy's room, a sound I hadn't heard since he was thirteen.

I don't think it was a nightmare this time though. He was writhing around on the bed in pain, whimpering and screaming, and clutching at his throat.

I suddenly felt the old paternal instinct that I had always displayed towards him when he was little. He had sort of decided after a fight that he was too old to need his older brother, and I tried to understand, as Darry and I had been through the same thing.

But it was so hard with Pony. I just wanted him to stay young forever, or at least act young forever. I wouldn't wish immortality on my worst enemy.

He had calmed down, and was just sort of whimpering now. I lay down next to him and lay my head on his chest, listening to the race of his frantic heart.

_"I missed this." _I thought, before I drifted off.


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing. Thankyou soo, soo much for reviewing. You guys make me smile:)**

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><p>I woke up groggily and automatically checked the time next to the bed. It was five in the morning. It was strange that I was awake at this time of day. I always sleep like a log.<p>

I think my pounding headache woke me up. It wasn't as acute as when I felt as if my organs were being mushed up into my head, but it was plenty painful.

I gasped lightly. Someone stirred next to me, and I was surprised to fine a head of tousled blonde hair laying next to me in bed. I smiled and felt a lot better all of the sudden.

I remembered that I hadn't done my homework the night before and I groaned. I was getting b's in math and english, although I hadn't told Darry yet.

The truth is that school was _hard. _In middle school I could get A's without even trying, but in high school I had to struggle to get b's.

My language arts teacher hated me. She was a real jerk named "Mrs. Reynolds." I suppose that she didn't like me because in the beginning of the year, I sent her a letter basically insulting her teaching style. Although I had to admit, she had taught me a lot.

I sighed and began to scribble the answer to an assignment. Thinking about the Cold War and feminism and whatever else was going on in the world and writing about it was like putting my migraine on steroids.

I didn't notice that I wasn't paying attention anymore. I felt light headed and I found it difficult to breathe, as if some of the oxygen was getting lost on the way to my lungs.

I gasped greedily at the air and staggered back over to my bed, breathing as though I had just run a marathon. Shit.

I swore under my breath. Running. I had a track tournament today. Some scouts would be there. I knew it was unlikely that I could get into college on a track scholarship. There was this kid, Jack Howard, who was much better at everything than me. He was a nice kid, pretty rich though. I felt bad for hating his guts.

I closed my eyes, dreading the coming day.

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><p>I was right to dread school that day. I found out that I got a C on my midterm, meaning that I had to get an 100 on the final in order to get an A in the class.<p>

I thought mournfully that I wouldn't be seeing much of my friends or family for the next few months. Not until summer.

I had almost _cried _in english because she had picked on me in front of the whole class, using my presentation as an example of what _not _to do.

Anyway, I was relieved to be making my way onto the track. Jack Howard grinned at me. "Hey Ponyboy!" Sometimes I wonder how he can stand being so nice and smart.

"Hi Jack."

"You nervous?"

"Uh, yeah a little."

"Ah, don't be. You're gonna do fine." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I heard that coach told the scout to look out for you. You really have a good chance."

"Yeah, but your the better runner." He grinned again.

"But they aren't going to be looking for me. They're from Tulsa community college. They'd be lucky to have you." TCC. Perhaps not the best school, but the best school my family could afford to send me to. Some people dream of going to Harvard or Parsons, but I just wanted to go to TCC.

"Thanks Jack. We should probably warm up now." As we began to stretch, chatting happily with the team, two people walked onto the field and began to speak earnestly to coach. _The scouts. _I thought.

I began to sweat and I choked on my water as I downed it. "You ok?" Jack asked concernedly. I nodded over at the scouts.

"Don't worry. Just pretend they aren't even here. You've gotten first in your event each time." My even was the mile run. Probably the most popular event, and therefore the most competitive.

The competing high school stretched a few yards away from us and the spectators began to trickle onto the field.

Soda waved cheerily at me, and I waved back. Darry looked tense, his eyes directed at the scouts. So he had noticed too that this was a bigger game than I had let on.

Two-Bit was commentating of course. He maintained a C average just so that he could blab at sporting events and people were forced to listen. The audience couldn't get enough of his jokes, and there was one group of girls that only went to these events because of him.

It was perhaps lucky that my event was first because my heart was already pounding so hard it sounded like it was against a microphone.

"On your marks," Two-Bit said excitedly. "Get set...GO!" The less experienced runners raced ahead, grinning as they left behind the eleventh and twelfth graders.

As usual when I ran, I began to hear songs in my head. I wish that there was a way for me to listen to music as I ran, but I just had to settle for my brain approximations of Elvis.

The track was small, so we had to round it five times. I started breathing hard during the second round. The younger students had all fallen behind, some of them even walking.

I was surprised to find that I was the first sophmore. Jack was usually ahead of me, but he was lagging behind today.

I was in maybe tenth overall, but I was pretty confident I could beat all of the juniors and maybe a couple of seniors.

On the third lap, it began to get really hard. I was panting and my legs burned but I pushed forwards. _What's wrong with you? _

I wasn't usually this slow or tired by only the third lap. Then, quite suddenly I felt a stabbing pain. It hurt so much, I couldn't even tell where it came from. I cried out and fell, but I didn't register reaching the ground.

_A soc must have stabbed me. _I guessed. There could be no other possible explanation. But as I looked blearily for the offender, I found no one except a concerned face looming above me.

I began to convulse with the pain, and I think I was screaming.

The last thing I remember is seeing two figures running across the field to me. Darry and Soda would save me, I thought naively.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi. Don't own. I hope you enjoy. Bye!

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><p>I don't remember much after that. I wasn't completely unconscious, but wasn't awake either. Everything looked like the special effects in Star Wars, all light and blasting sound and a babble of voices.<p>

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed, although I didn't panic. I was too tired to care if I had been kidnapped by exceptionally generous kidnappers or if I was dead or whatever. I wondered if dead people felt tired.

"Pony boy?" A woman in pajamas asked shining a light in my eyes. I blinked. "Good, your reactions are fine." I seethed angrily, wondering if there was any _possible _way she could test my reactions without blinding me by a white light.

"Would you like to see your family?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I wasn't really in the mood, but I figured my siblings would want to see me. Darry was probably disappointed that I wasn't going to get that scholarship now, Soda was gonna be loud and my head hurt quite enough as it was. I braced myself for the entourage of people, but I hardly noticed when my family walked in.

"Uh, hi?" I asked questioningly, wondering why no one was talking.

"Hi Pony." Darry said quietly, not looking me in the eyes, the exact same way he had looked when he had told us that mom and dad had died. My heart sank.

"Who died?" I asked as a joke. Yeah, I know, it wasn't particularly funny, and became even less funny as I surveyed the room. Everyone in the gang was there, all of them looking anywhere but at me. They all looked fine, and there wasn't really anyone else I would care about...except me, the person lying in the hospital bed. "Oh." I said quietly, realization dawning. It took me all of two seconds to assess what I had to do. If I was really dying, I was a goner, quite literally. But I didn't have to make my last few...however long I had, a living hell for everyone else.

"Well that sucks _ass._" I exclaimed, grinning widely. I almost smiled for real when they all looked up at me in surprise at once, like dogs that had caught scent of a cooking hamburger.

"What did you say?"

"I said that sucks?" Geez Darry, are you hard of hearing now as well as emotionless? When no one made any further comment I asked (as casually as I could under the circumstances) "So... Just one quick question before we change the subject...actually a couple questions, one, what have I got, two, how long?"

"No one ever said you were dying." Steve growled at me.

"He did." I gestured at Darry who had his 'I'm-gonna-tell-you-some-awful-life-changin-news' face on. "And him-" Soda was biting his lip, obviously trying to not show emotions, "And him-" Johnny with his puppy dog eyes, "-Also him-" Lastly I gestured to Two-Bit who wasn't smiling and hadn't cracked one joke. "So really Steve, you're the only one who_ hasn't _told me that I'm dying, so I repeat, what, and how long?"

"Pony boy-"

"Darry, I swear to god, if the next words out of your mouth don't answer my question, I _will _take out this needle thing that's probably doing something important." I gestured to the IV in my arm.

"Brain tumor. Only about 2 months." Darry said bluntly. "But, I've talked to the nurses and there are possibilities-"

"Darry, No. Get me the _hell _out of this hospital _right now _and let me go home. Of let me "Ylose on the streets, I don't care, but I'm not consuming your time, money, and hopes by having some doctor poke around inside my head."

"Pony, you could live almost half a year more with medicine-" Soda prompted gently.

"Yes, and what a good year _that _would be. I repeat, I want out of this hospital. and if you wont let me, I am old enough to become an emancipated minor and I will."

Steve chortled. "Kid, you don't have the brains to live on the streets."

"Apparently I don't have th_e brains _to live at all so might as well spend my remaining time out of a hospital." Two-Bit laughed brashly at that. Everyone looked at him.

"Hey, the kid has a point!"

The nurse re-entered, probably protecting Two-Bit from a severe beating from Darry.

"Excuse me?" I asked the nurse, using my best 'adult voice.' "Hi, we have made a decision that I would rather die at home without _any _medication except aspirin and the occasional tylonal. So...can we sign some papers to get out of here? He's my legal guardian. He can answer an further logistical questions you have. I would like to be out of here within the hour, if at all possible."

"Uh..." The nurse obviously wasn't used to being talked to like this by a child. I rolled my eyes.

"Darry, could you please help her out? Preferably not in here so I can get ready to go home. The rest of you can leave too."

The gang shuffled out, a couple sparing glances back at me. As soon as they left, I wrenched the IV from my arm and closed the door and the shades to the window. I sat back on my bed, the sudden movement making my head spin and my vision blur.

I put my face between my knees and took deep breaths. So, this is what dying felt like. In a way, I was relieved. Relieved of all stress. The only reason humans have stress is because of the future. Test next monday? Who will I marry? Will I be successful? What will happen next?

None of that mattered anymore.

There was only one dead line that mattered. And I mean a literal _dead _line. I wondered if this meant that I should start going to church again.

I was feeling better, and took advantage of this brief moment and began to put on my civilian clothes. I looked at my reflection in the window. It was dark out, probably the night after the track tournament.

My hair was a mess and there were bags under my eyes. I brushed my hair to one side, then messed it up again, realizing it didn't really matter.

I knew that this was my chance to cry-I would be attacked by an onslaught of sympathy from this moment until my dying day.

But I couldn't bring myself to tears. Maybe it's for the best. I thought.

Maybe I was being selfish, but in this situation the line between selfish and selfless is practically non-exsistent.

I thought of my family after I died. The worst thing was, it wasn't hard to think of. nothing would really change. I was so different from the rest of them, I hardily talked to them anyways. If there was an afterlife, I wouldn't miss them, and I knew the feeling was mutual.

So I did shed a tear, but It wasn't one of sadness that I would have to leave-I was regretful.

And I only had 2 months to change that.


End file.
